


Last memories

by Ilyasviel



Series: Cullen Appreciation week 2017 [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Family, Goodbyes, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyasviel/pseuds/Ilyasviel
Summary: Cullen has some free days to visit his family before taking his bows. A visit to Honnleath with a bitersweet taste.





	Last memories

**Author's Note:**

> My participation in the Cullen Appreciation Week Day 4: I’m still alive. Your loving brother, Cullen - Family  
> This day is all about Cullen as a son, brother, uncle, father or even grandad- whatever you’d like him to be!

The horse guides him through a very well known landscape. Some things had changed since his departure five years ago. But in the end, Honnleath remains as always, with its big houses, the ugly statue in the centre of the town, and the stalls surrounding it, with the farmers selling their fares. Some people look at him when passing near them, but no one seems to recognise him. 

 

Taking the road to the farmlands, he uses the time to think about the reason for the travel. Cullen turned 18 years a month ago, and next week he will take the final bows that will tie him to the Order, turning him into a Templar. His Knight-Captain let the recruits pay a last visit to their families before the ceremony, knowing that after the bows were taken, they will be assigned to a Circle and maybe can’t see their families in years.

 

After a mile since he left the town, he sees the marker of their parent's lands. Jumping from the horse, he decides to take the rest of the journey on foot. It was spring, and the fields are blossoming with the blessings of the Maker. Fields of wheat, corn, cotton, and the apple trees at the end, make a very bucolic image. Between the maze of high corn, he hears the sound of someone splashing water and can imagine perfectly who will be. Guiding the horse to a side trail, he moves as silently as possible to the little lake he visited so frequently as a child. Leaving the horse knotted to a tree at the entrance, he moves closer to the origin of the sound. 

 

As Cullen has suspected, Branson is there, jumping from the pier into the water, while Rosalie sits on it, laughing every time he launches himself to the water. He remains for several minutes, just enjoying the view, with a silly smile on his face. At last, he leaves his hiding spot, moving closer to Rosalie from his back. Branson sees him, but he silences him signalling her back with a mischievous smile on his face. When he is close enough, he lets his face appear in front of her, startling her and making her shriek. “Hey, little sis! That's no way to welcoming your older brother!”

 

“Cullen!” The little girl throws her arms around him, and he uses his position to straighten his back and pulls her with him until he can wrap her arms around her back. 

 

“Maker’s breath! How much had you grown! Let me take a look at you.” When she is at arm’s distance, he touches face, her shoulders, her long blond braids, kissing her forehead before making her turn over her heels. “You look more like Mom every time I see you.”

 

Branson appears at his side, dripping water but hugging him anyway, silencing any retort from his older brother with a playful punch to his ribs. “Five years, you moron. Five.”

 

He punches his ribs too, taking care of his strength. “I’m glad to see you too, Bran.”

 

Branson takes a step back, keeping his hands on his shoulders. “By the Maker, what they feed you there? Because I want a share or two too.”

 

Cullen laughs with him, giving a soft pat to his shoulder. “Something about faith and dedication, that’s what my Knight-Commander says. But rest easy, little brother, without me here, you will always be the bigger one.”

 

Something hit him on the back, and when he turns to see what it was, he finds a very angry Mia, throwing pebbles to his back. “Hey, sis.”

 

Moving closer to him, she crosses her arms over her chest, brows furrowed. “Don’t ‘hey’ me, you idiot. Five years, and you only wrote a letter two times.” She counts with her fingers in front of his face. “One and two. And you have been away five years, see?” She has a hand with two fingers unfolded and the other one with all her fingers opened. “They had not made you forget how to count by hitting your head repeatedly, right?”

 

He sighs. He feared Mia’s temper even before leaving the house and knowing that she was right about the letters only add a new layer of guilty to his usual one. “I know, and I’m sorry, Mia. The training is hard, and I spent the last year almost in solitary confinement, doing my Initiation Rites.”

 

Lowering her hands, her frown changed slightly. “That means that--”

 

Cullen nods, the pride he feels is writing clearly over his face. “Yes. I will take my bows next week. I will be assigned to the Ferelden Circle on Kinloch.”

 

As soon as he ends his words, he is wrapped in a knot of arms, with his brother and sisters hugging him. He giggles softly, returning the hug as good as he can with six arms pinning him. “I will take that as a ‘congratulations’ hug.”

 

Mia steps back just enough to look him in the eye. “Of course it is, you little idiot. Maker, now that I look at you, you have changed a lot.”

 

Branson has stepped back, and Cullen uses the moment to catch Mia and Rosalie in his arms and turn them around. “Yes. I think I’m the tall one now.”

 

“And the strongest! See, Bran? I’m sure that he eats all his vegetables without complaint.”

 

Laughing hard, Cullen put them down, turning to face his brother. “Is not like I can eat anything besides what they serve on the mess hall, Mia”

 

Branson rolls his eyes, making a face to his older sister. “Oh, I’m sure that he is this big because he eats his peppers and eggplants. The training and the body building he has to make to be a Templar has nothing to do with it. Really, Mia? You are worse than Nana Esther.”

 

With a shrug, she takes Cullen’s hand and starts walking, dragging him with her. “I have to try it. Come, Cullen. Mom and Dad will want to see you too.”

 

Waving to Branson and Rosalie who are recovering their clothes from the pier, he let Mia guide him to his horse. She scratches the mare’s neck, smiling softly. Cullen jumps on the saddle and takes off his foot from the stirrup. “Come here, Mia. Let’s make a proper entrance to the house. Maybe some workers think that I’m your new boyfriend.”

 

She punches his leg before taking the offered hand and climbing at the saddle, sitting sidesaddle in front of him. “For your information, dear brother. Aidan has asked me to marry him.”

 

“What? When? How? But if you are only 20 years old!”

 

She laughs while stealing the reins from his hands, guiding the horse to the main road again. “We have been dating for three years, you silly. If you have written to me, I will have told you. He asked me first, to know if I will accept him, before asking Dad. Of course, they had said yes. We will marry the next winter, and he will come to live with us here.”

 

He hugs her from behind, kissing his head while recovering the reins. “Congratulations, sis. Can’t wait to meet the boy who stole your heart. I have to warn him about your bad temper, of course.”

 

She kicks his leg again, but rest her back against his chest. “I missed you, Cullen. I’m happy for your bows, but this means that you will not visit us in a very long time.” She sighs just when the entrance to the main house appears at the end of the road. “Will you try to write more this time? Is hard not knowing how are you doing out there. I have Branson and Rosalie here, I can talk with them and take care of their problems, but you… You have turned into a man without me knowing it.”

 

Some of the workers see them, and one of them runs to warn his parents of the visitor. “Said the one who will get married in some months. I will have loved to see you lot grow, but I know what I want to do, and next week I will fulfil my dream at last, after so many years.”

 

When he stops the horse in front of the horse, his father is opening the door. He just needed a second to know who it is, almost running to embrace him as soon as he jumped from the horse and had helped Mia to go down. His father didn’t say a word, just held him for a long moment before stepping back and taking a good look at him. His mother appears behind them, crying and smiling at the same time. “Oh, my Cully. I almost didn’t recognise you. Come here, my boy.” 

 

His father lets him go, and he loses himself in his mother’s arms. The scent of lavender that he always related to her envelopes him. Her golden locks had more white ones than the last time, and she wears some extra wrinkles on her face, but she remains the most beautiful woman he ever saw. “Mom. I missed you.”

 

“We missed you too, Curly. Sorry, you are not my little boy anymore. Let me look at you.” She steps back a bit, capturing his hand between hers while she examines him. “Calahan, he looks like you at his age. The girls at the Chantry must be having a bad time having you around, Cullen.”

 

“Mom!”

 

She just laughs at him, his father joining her but with a reprimand on hand. “Arlene, let the poor boy be.” He moves beside his wife, clasping Cullen’s shoulder. “I’m glad to have you back, son. How long will you be with us?”

 

Cullen can hear Branson greeting the workers behind them. “Just a couple of days, I fear. I will take my bows next week, and we got some free time to pay a visit to our families before them.”

 

His father extends a hand to him. “I’m very proud of you, my son. Come inside then. Let’s make the most of the time we have.”

 

And during the next two days, Cullen remembered why he missed his family so much the first year on the Order. He feels so comfortable with them. Joking with Branson, playing chess with Mia, pestering Rosalie about the stable hand who make eyes to her. He even enjoyed meeting Aidan. He will take her of Mia in his name. 

 

The morning of his departure, Cullen is leaning against the doorframe of the house, memorising the landscape for his long nights of vigil. Branson appeared at his side, bringing a steamy cup of chocolate. “Here, take this. I don’t know if you Templars can have hot chocolate, so better if you eat your share before joining.”

 

Blowing it a bit, Cullen takes a sip from his mug and hums happily. “Thanks. We can have it, but is not something we can enjoy frequently.”

 

Branson leans his shoulder on him, hiding his face behind the mug. “I’m gonna miss you. Having you back makes me remember how much I missed you these past years.”

 

“I missed you too. But I’m living my dream, as much as it pains me to be away from home.”

 

With a shrug, Branson moves away from him, leaning on the other side of the door. “I know. And don’t take me wrong. I’m proud of my older brother turning in a mighty Templar. It is just-- well, is not an easy life, Cullen. I talked a lot with the Templars on Honnleath, and they told me that is hard, something that can break your mind at the end.” With a sigh, he takes a long gulp of his chocolate before taking a step to put himself in front of Cullen and searching for something in his pocket. “Just-- take this, please. Nana Esther gave it to me years ago, to bring me luck, and it worked like a charm. I even fell from my horse and didn’t break a single bone. Please, take it. I will feel better knowing that you got it with you while you are out there.”

 

Cullen takes the coin, turning it in his fingers. It is an old one, with King Maric on one side and Andraste on the other, but the effigies are almost erased for the use. Cullen takes a last look to it before storing it securely in his pocket, before half hugging Branson. “Thank you, Bran. I will keep it with me. Now try not to break your leg now that you will not have the protection.”

 

Returning the hug, Branson grasps a handful of his tunic, clinging at him for a moment. “I’ll try. Promise me that you will take care of yourself. And try to write from time to time, Mia can be very annoying when worried.”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

Branson returns to the other side of the door, and they end with their chocolates in silence.

 

When the time to leaves arrives, all the family, including Aidan and the oldest workers of the farm are there to wish him a safe journey. Branson is the first to hug him, a quick one, clasping his hand before stepping aside. Rosalie is the next, hugging him and giving him a big kiss on his cheek. She was crying softly when she moves away from him. Aidan clasps his hands before pushing Mia to him. Her tiny hands gripped his tunic with so much force that he fears she will tear it. “Promise me that you will write to us. We need to know that you are alive, at the very least.”

 

Cullen returns the hug, kissing the top of her head, whispering in her ear. “I’ll do my best, sis. You enjoy your life with Aidan and take care of the rest for me, will you?”

 

She nods, her tear stained cheeks wetting his neck. Aidan takes her hand and makes her move away from him. 

 

The last ones were his parents. Mom is crying since she saw the horse, and Dad is keeping a supportive hand around her shoulders. She extends a hand and beckons him to join them. As soon as he is close enough, they pull him in their arms, surrounding him completely with their arms. They didn’t talk. No need of it. They express their love with their arms, their hands, their kisses. With a last kiss on her mother forehead, he moves away from them and climbs up the saddle. He waves to them, a sad frown fixed on his face, but resolve in his eyes. Before he can spur the horse, his mother closes the distance, giving him a kerchief with a big R embroidered on it. “Never forget who you are, Cullen Stanton Rutherford. You will always be my beloved son, and you can come back home always, whatever happens.”

 

“I know. I love you all.”

 

When her mother returns to his father side, he stores the kerchief on his tunic and spurs the horse, without a single glance back, knowing that seeing how his life is left behind will be hard and maybe his resolve will falter. He dreamed all his life to be a Templar, to join the order and to help and serve. In a couple of days, he will take the bows, taking his first dose of lyrium and travelling to a Circle to fulfil his duty. He will stop being Cullen Rutherford. He will be Ser Cullen. 


End file.
